


Not An Affair

by fineandwittie



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Ficlet, John wants to kill people, M/M, Past Verbal and Mental Abuse, Sebastian Wilkes is a fuckhead, Sherlock can't control his mouth, Sherlock has no sense of self-worth, Unbeta'd, somewhat ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:29:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fineandwittie/pseuds/fineandwittie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to be a surprise for Sherlock's birthday. John might not have thought this through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not An Affair

The moment he entered the lab, the smell of woman’s perfume hit his senses like a sledge hammer to the head. The only person in the room was Molly (perfume, new, changed recently. Why?) and the perfume was the same that had been clinging to John’s clothing for the past two weeks. Sherlock froze just inside the door.

  
Why would John sleep with Molly? That was…But. Convenient and Molly was pretty. Sweet in a way that John normally liked. But it seemed crueler than John was capable. Maybe he hadn’t thought about it. Sherlock’s body was no longer obeying his mind. He tried to tell it to walk forward, pretend nothing had happened, move damn it.

  
“Sherlock, are you alri—Jesus!” Sherlock tried taking a step forward, but his knees disagreed with the idea and he crashed to the floor instead. John came around to crouch in front of him. He was speaking, but Sherlock couldn’t hear him over the blood rushing inside his head.

  
He’d also seemed to have lost control of his vocal cords because the next thing he actually heard was his own voice. “So Molly is the woman that you’re sleeping with then?”

  
John jerked back as though he’d been slapped. But Sherlock’s voice continued on. A balloon seemed to have lodged itself in his thoracic cavity and it was pushing on all of his organs. “I knew it was going to happen. Obviously it was always going to happen eventually, but I didn’t think it would be this soon and I never thought it would be Molly. Stupid of me, really. It’s the perfect solution. She’s your type: pretty and sweet and very smart. And she was in love with me, so she could get a bit of her own back and also enjoy you. Is it because I treated her badly? I did. I know I did. I didn’t realize it, but I was really very cruel. I generally am. Is that why? I’ll stop. I promise I will. I’ll try harder, only don’t leave, John. Please, I don’t…I…please don’t leave. The sex wasn’t enough and I’m certainly never going to be enough and I can’t be brilliant all the time and we can’t always be solving cases, so the danger won’t be enough, but…please don’t leave.” Sherlock really desperately wanted to stop talking, but he couldn’t seem to remember how, so he shut his eyes instead. “I’m pathetic. Sebastian was right. I know I’m pathetic and I’m sorry. God, John, I’m so sorry, I’ll do better. I will. I won’t mind about the women. I’ll leave them all alone. I’ll be nice to them even. Whatever you want. I promise. Just…” He heard his voice crack and the spell was broken. He clicked his jaw shut and waited for John to get up and leave. It occurred to him that no matter how hard he tried there were certain voices that he couldn’t manage to delete. Sally Donovan’s, Sebastian’s, Victor’s, his father’s. He heard them say _freak_ and _pathetic_ and _worthless_. Why would John ever stay for that?

  
Fabric rustled and the floor creaked a little when John moved. The balloon was gone, but it had left behind an empty hole that seemed to have filled with shattered bits of glass. Perhaps this was what a myocardial infarction felt like?

  
And John kissed him.

  
Everything stopped. He didn’t understand.

  
John was still kissing him. He tilted forward and pressed himself into John, whose smaller body was solid and warm and real. This was not what happened. He didn’t understand. After a moment, John finally pulled back and Sherlock buried his face in John’s neck and refused to unwind his arms, because perhaps that had been a goodbye and this was the moment when John left. He’d go, take Molly with him, and Sherlock would be sitting alone on the floor of one of Bart’s classroom-labs. He was not certain he’d be able to get up when that happened. Maybe Mike would stop by the room and find him there, lying on the floor. Or maybe no one would. The door would shut and he’d be alone again and he’d stay here in the dark where no one else could come, he’d live inside his head where he could keep John forever and—

  
“Christ, Sherlock. What have they done to you?”

  
Sherlock frowned and shook his head. “Who?” The word was muffled by John’s skin and his jumper

  
John’s laugh was bitter and angry and something about it matched the smashed up glass in Sherlock’s chest. Sherlock flinched and John brought a hand up to rest on his back. Warm. “I don’t know who, but if I ever meet them…I’ll make them wish that the entire human race had never evolved. Sherlock…I don’t think I’ve ever seen a moment when your deductions were more wrong than they are right now. So spectacularly wrong. There is literally only one correct piece of information here and that’s the perfume.” Sherlock pulled back and wrapped his arms around the knees he drew up. He blinked owlishly at John. What on earth was he talking about? “Sherlock, the perfume was Molly’s. Yes, that was correct.” He hadn’t really wanted John to confirm it. It hurt more now, somehow, and this, this, was why he hated sentiment. “I’m not sleeping with her. I wouldn’t cheat on you, ever, and not just because I’d never get away with it. I don’t do that. Sherlock. Your birthday is in a few days. We were planning a surprise. I would go over to her flat and we’d conspire and I’d come home smug because you hadn’t figured it out yet. I never, ever thought it was because you thought I’d…Jesus. Do you really think so little of yourself?” He paused and Sherlock merely stared at him. His birthday? But…what? “Whoever you were in a relationship with before who made you think all this…I think I’d like to rearrange their faces. With my gun.”

  
This startled a laugh out Sherlock. Molly came into view. She wasn’t scowling, like he supposed she’d be. She looked…sad. “Sherlock, I would never treat you like that. I know you’ve been mean to me and you’ve manipulated me, but that’s really…I mean. I don’t think you…really realized it before. You’ve been so much better since John and you’ve looked so happy these past few weeks. I…I really just wanted you to be happy. And Sherlock…I…that is…”

  
Sherlock blinked at her. Then he narrowed his eyes. “You think I’ve been abused.” She flushed bright red and averted her eyes, but she didn’t deny it. “I haven’t. No one has ever…My father didn’t hit me. My boyfriends didn’t hit me. I wasn’t abused.”

  
John brought a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose. Sherlock turned back to John and watched. “Sherlock, abuse doesn’t have to be physical and I’m really very sure that you were abused. You let Sally Donovan abuse you all the time. You’ve said some awful things to her, yes, but you could report her for the way she treats you. You let Sebastian Wilkes…oh.” Sherlock knew the exact moment when John connected the dots. “Oh…my god. You dated Sebastian Wilkes?”

  
Sherlock swallowed at the disgust in John’s voice and looked away. “After a fashion. We…well, I suppose the correct term is ‘fuck-buddies’. I was…pathetically impressed by him and he…slept with me sometimes.”

  
John made a strangled noise and turned away to look at Molly. Sherlock tried to sink into the floor, no matter how physically impossible that was. “Molly, if Sebastian Wilkes ever turns up in your morgue and he’s missing…parts of his anatomy that he shouldn’t have been given in the first place, like his eyes and brain and cock. I am telling you right now. I didn’t kill him. Yes? But I would take whoever did out for a drink and congratulate them on a job well done.”

  
Sherlock lifted his head and stared at John. “I’m sorry…what?”

  
John looked back at him. “Sherlock….you beautiful man. I love you. I would do anything at all for you. I would happily. Happily. Peel off all of his skin and tan it to make shoes if could erase what he’s done to you.”

  
Sherlock stared at him. Love? Sherlock? What? “You…”

  
Molly made a noise like a sob. Her eyes were wet. “John…pattern of abuse. You…John…”

  
John nodded. “Yes. Molly, I do realize. I did have some psych training. Sherlock? Come on, up you get.” John stood and hauled Sherlock to his feet. This time his knees held and he stood. “Sherlock, I love you for you. Not just because you’re brilliant and not just because the sex is fabulous.” Sherlock smiled a little at this. He had thought so, but when…well…he didn’t have as much experience as Three Continents Watson and he’s thought maybe he was a little…provincial. “I love you because you’re brilliant and beautiful and easily distracted and you get bored and leave human heads in the fridge and experiment on everything and you can see everything but you don’t always get it right because sentiment. I love you because you can be cruel and thoughtless and petty, but you can also be sweet and gentle and so incredibly selfless it’s breathtaking. I love you because you’re you, Sherlock Holmes. And I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

  
Sherlock had once again lost control of his voice. He couldn’t force his jaw open. He wanted to say that he loved John too. Desperately. He wanted to say that he’d die without John there. That he’d crawl back to his cocaine to drown out the sentiment inside his chest. But it wouldn’t be John’s fault. Because without John it probably would have happened already. He wanted to say all that and a thousand other things besides, but his jaw wouldn’t open.

  
John smiled at him anyway, like he knew. Like he saw.

  
Sherlock surged forward, wrapping his arms around John tightly, and vowed to himself and anything else that might be listening that he would never, ever let him ago again. Even if it killed them both.


End file.
